


From the Past, We Learn

by PastelLunarPrince



Category: Bloodborne (Video Game)
Genre: Multi, but i like it, i have no idea what i'm writing at this point, this is a weird au of sorts
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-15
Updated: 2016-05-17
Packaged: 2018-06-02 07:54:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 13,633
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6558388
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PastelLunarPrince/pseuds/PastelLunarPrince
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hunters and Werewolves live in a peaceful arrangement, for the most part.</p><p>(AU set in a vague future Yharnam)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> I haven't a complete idea of what I'm writing, but I'm enjoying it. This is set roughly at least a century after what we see in the game, but not exactly like, our modern day. Kind of a different imagining of it I guess (which is why this is an AU - I really stink at this explaining stuff).  
> Vague is vague. Sorry. Enjoy?

"You're a hunter."  
  
The blonde woman jumped, turning to face the man in the doorway, a stirring spoon in her hand. She tilted her head, debated feigning innocence, and sighed. She set the spoon in the rest on the stove top and shrugged.  
  
"Guess there's no denying it now." She pulled a gun from a pocket in her dress and in a blink, the man once standing in the doorway was a dead heap of a ragged creature on the floor. She stepped over the corpse, silver dripping out of the poor thing's gaping maw, and clicked her tongue. She crossed herself before grabbing her coat and leaving the man's house.  
  
The young woman looked to the rising sun and took in the slow dawn. She blinked once, twice, three times and inhaled deeply before she set off for home. She was descended from a long line of hunters - dating back countless generations and at least 200 years. She once took delight in the idea of taking after her forefathers, but as she continued to read the journals and carry out rather dodgy missions she came to realize she wasn't much for the way her family hunted. She was as merciful as she could be on her targets; going home with them during the night and ending their lives before the sun could fully awake.  
  
She never did like it, but she hadn't really known any other life. That morning started off worse than the twenty year old had hoped, in any case. Her favorite thing to use was poison; she'd make breakfast for the victim and they would die peacefully hours after she had left. She hated the gun. The bullets that exploded internally and filled the sorry bastards with liquid silver.  
  
She shuddered as a nonexistent breeze chilled her entirety. She couldn't continue this way. As she stood in front of her home, she noted the smoke coming from the chimney. Her father was obviously awake and still inside. He hadn't gone on about his daily routine yet, most likely noticing that his only child hadn't come home yet. Taking in one last breath, the young woman opened the large ornate door and walked inside. She was met by a trembling man in a yellow and cream jacket.  
  
"Father, the weather isn't cold enough for that coat."  
  
The man didn't respond; he simply kept his arms around her, tucking her head under his chin. "You're later than usual, Viola."  
  
She stepped back, gently shaking off her father's concerned embrace. "Do you really worry so much for me even after all the years?" She let a small smile play on her cracked lips. "I know what I'm doing," she paused, the smile faltering, "and what I'm not doing again."  
  
The man, Henryk, raised a questioning brow at his daughter's statement.  
  
"I can't hunt anymore." Viola stated, not meeting Henryk's confused green-brown eyes. "It just… feels wrong…" She shook her head. "I'm going to gather a few of my things and go spend some time with Djura - see how he dealt with it…"  
  
Henryk nodded, in a silent shock. He shook himself from it and once again hugged the young woman. "My one and only, do not think for one moment that I don't support your decision. Your heart is big, and your mind more open than many." He kissed the top of her head and then her forehead. "You will always have a home here."  
  
\---  
  
Viola couldn't remember why she was out so late, or why the pain in her head wasn't subsiding. She pulled her coat and scarf closer to her, feeling as if the winter winds were setting in earlier than predicted. Her blonde hair fell about her shoulders and down her back - her bun coming undone at some point she couldn't recall. She had just gone to the clinic to pick up some supplies for Djura. Her vision blurred and she felt her grip on the wall slip.  
  
She gasped as her hands hit cold, grimy pavement. She could smell a bit of blood coming from her palms, and as she heard a growl she knew something else could smell it, too. She pushed herself against the wall, trying to stand but failing to do so as her legs wouldn't respond to commands. She squeezed her eyes shut as the dog creature came closer to her, holding her breath as an axe came down on the creature cleaving it in two.  
  
"You alright there, miss?"  
  
Viola blinked two or three, maybe four or five times, trying to clear her vision and her head enough to speak to the man who had rescued her. She clutched at her torso with one hand and her head with the other, forcibly pushing herself up against the wall, crying out. She felt the man come in closer to her, speaking soft words she couldn't make out. He had put his axe away and was picking her up in his large arms. She curled herself against him.  
  
"Old Yharnam." It was all Viola could get out before the pain in her head took over and blacked out all senses.  
  
-  
  
When she awoke, Viola found herself in a state of dazed confusion. She sat up, looking around at her surroundings.  
  
"Old Yharnam…"  
  
"Oh! Vivi, you're awake!"  
  
Viola looked toward the voice and smile at the familiar face of her friend. "Djura!" Her smile faded and her face contorted, memories of the previous night rushing back in a brief fit of pain. She shuddered and looked at the retired hunter with wide eyes. "The supplies!?"  
  
Djura laughed. "Don't worry your pretty little head, Vivi. That strapping man that brought you to me made sure I got them." He became somber, looking at the blonde woman worriedly. "It's not like you to cower in front of a little beastie; I know you're not the hunter you once were, but you still have that instinct."  
  
"Iosefka…" Viola shook her head. "She… I don't know…" She bit her lip. "She wasn't herself. I left with so much pain in my head and in my chest." She looked over the edge of the tower and sighed before looking back at Djura. "That man. That hunter…"  
  
"He's a foreigner, been here a few years now though," Djura said. "He helps your father now, though… I don't see why he does it…"  
  
"He's part werewolf himself, isn't he?" Viola slowly stood, but soon collapsed against Djura before regaining her balance. She shook her head, rubbing her temples and realizing her hair was still down in all sorts of directions. She looked around for her bag, unable to find it anywhere. "I may have lost my belongings."  
  
Djura watched the young woman, sighing softly. "Retrace the steps between Iosefka's clinic and where the hunter found you. Take your gun with you this time." He held the pistol out toward her, watching as she hesitated to take it from him. "Viola. Please. Be careful."  
  
Viola took the weapon and nodded, putting away the gun and brushing her fingers through her hair as best as she could. She couldn't get it into a bun, but she did manage to get it under the hood of her coat. She left the old part of the city, abandoned and crumbling - condemned and left to rot - and entered what many referred to as the true Yharnam. Many decades had passed since the scourge that ravaged the city beyond repair, with few families left to pick up what was left. Some had tried to rebuild parts of Old Yharnam, but soon gave up and just focused on the main city.  
  
There were mixed bloodlines now, werewolves and the people that hunted them - and then the people in between. They could control their transformations, to a point, and weren't completely mindless when in beast form, usually. They suffered only minor damage from silver, but the full moon could turn them into a full beast and hardly anything could bring them down from it. It was in that form in which the halflings, as they were called, were weak to the same things as the full-blooded beasts.  
Viola remembered many full moons as she walked through the Yharnam streets, past the central hub, and into Iosefka's clinic. The second she stepped inside, she knew something was off. Even from the previous night, it was different.  
  
"Iosefka?"  
  
"S-stay back! D-don't come any closer!"  
  
Viola stopped at the panicked voice. She calmed her racing heart and took a couple slow steps toward the cracked door.  
  
"I said stay back!"  
  
"Iosefka, it's me. It's Viola."  
  
"Oh, I know very well who you are."  
  
Viola stopped in her tracks at the change of voice. It was the same voice she remembered from last night, telling her to relax. She felt the pain in her torso return and she cried out, her breath catching in her throat as she fell to her knees. Her hair came loose from its' prison inside her hood and fell around her face, cutting off her peripheral vision.  
  
"You should be happy, proud - you've been chosen."  
  
Viola looked into what should have been familiar eyes, but they were cold, dark, and dangerous. She shook her head, recoiling as the imposter went to touch her cheek.  
  
"Child, you should be thanking me," Iosefka grinned. The healer paused, squeezing her eyes shut as if to quiet some battle in her own brain. "This body here didn't much like it, but maybe that's because of the beast inside. But you, you have nothing but pure blood in your body. None of the blood from decades past." She chuckled, still knelt in front of Viola.  
  
The young retired hunter looked at the woman, confused and slowly recovering from the jolt of pain.  
  
"The 'healing' blood from the beginnings of Yharnam, child - the blood I'm sure your family has recorded in their journals from the past to teach you not to make the same mistakes," Iosefka shook her head. "You are pure, and therefore chosen." She caressed Viola's cheek, smiling as she held a bag with the other hand. "Do be more careful, child. The Great Ones have a plan for you."  
  
Viola jerked her face away from the other woman's hand and snatched her bag. She stood up on shaky legs and left the clinic. She soon found herself at the entrance of Oeden Chapel, and for the first time since the previous night's happenings, she felt free of pain and worry. She walked into the chapel, taking in a deep breath of the incense inside. She remembered going to the chapel as a child, and how many of the other hunter's children would pick at her once their parents were out of earshot - simply because she chose to keep company with the man known as Chappie. No one really knew his name, and many never cared to ask; all anyone knew was that the man had always dwelled within the chapel, lending a helping hand to anyone who needed it. He listened to anyone who wished to speak to him, and would gladly speak of his day if asked.  
  
"Oh, Miss Viola, how wonderful to see you."  
  
Viola blinked and looked over at the strange man. She smiled and embraced him, suddenly realizing how much she had missed his company in the recent years.  
  
"You're crying? What has made you so upset?" Chappie took hold of Viola's hand and led her to a chair.  
  
"I'm crying because I'm relieved," Viola smiled. "It's so good to hear your voice. I've been gone so long, hiding from my responsibilities…" She shook her head and then gasped as pain hit her once more. She doubled over, trying to remember to breathe.  
  
"Miss Viola?" Chappie laid his hand carefully on her back, rubbing gentle circles in between her shoulder blades. Concern covered his features as he could only watch the pain.  
  
"Is anyone here?"  
  
The chapel dweller looked up at the sound of the man's deep voice. "O-over here good hunter!" He called, not wanting to leave Viola's side.  
  
Viola recognized the presence of the newcomer. She peered up at him through strands of hair, green eyes filled with tears.  
  
"You're the woman from last night," the man mused. It was quite obvious he was talking to himself, perhaps not meaning to speak aloud. His accent was thick, but he was still understandable. He looked from Viola to Chappie. "I have brought someone seeking refuge, a lady of the night, she calls herself."  
  
"Arianna." A woman walked up behind the large man, bowing to Chappie just slightly at the waist.  
  
Chappie looked from Arianna to Viola and back to Arianna.  
  
"Take care of your guest," Viola spoke, words strained just slightly. "I'll be alright."  
  
The dweller nodded and left to help the new guest.  
  
"Who are you?" Viola managed to sit herself back up, the pain subsiding a little.  
  
"Gascoigne." He raised an eyebrow at her chuckle. "And who might you be? We seem to be bumping into one another quite often now."  
  
"Perhaps our destinies our now twined together," Viola jested, gritting her teeth as a wave of pain hit her. "My name is Viola."  
  
"So you're the one I've heard so much about," Gascoigne's tone relaxed as he sat down beside her. "Henryk speaks highly of you."  
  
Viola felt calm wash over her and the pain completely dissipate as the man sat near her. She watched him with tired eyes before smiling. "So you have been working with my father." She laughed as the man's eyes widened.  
  
"I wasn't aware he was your father," Gascoigne said, incredulous. "He merely spoke of you as a talented hunter of your time. I almost thought you were a myth - a part of this strange city's history."  
  
Viola laughed, and Gascoigne found himself momentarily entranced.  
  
"My father is quite a character," Viola smiled. "It's been a couple years since I've gone home. I may as well be a piece of Yharnam's tragic past." She shook her head and looked down at her hands. Her eyes drifted once more to the man beside her. "Gascoigne."  
  
He looked up at the sound of his name. It was nice, coming from her. He shook the thought from his head and cocked his head to the side. "How can I be of service?"  
  
Viola smiled and stood from the chair, the pain and shakes seeming to be completely gone. She extended a hand to the hunter. "Walk with me?"  
  
Gascoigne looked from her face to her hand before accepting the gesture, surprised at how she actually did help him to his feet rather than him putting in extra effort to not knock her over.  
  
The two left the chapel, Viola's arm laced into the crook of Gascoigne's elbow.


	2. Chapter Two

"Viola, you have company."

Viola took one last look in the mirror hanging on the door of her room and smiled. She spun around once, giggling quietly at the floofy skirt she wore. She made sure her boots were laced properly before opening her door.

"You look lovely," Henryk chuckled, returning the hug Viola thrust upon him. He spun her around, smiling at her shrill laugh. It was almost as if she had never left home. He set her back on her feet and watched as she walked down the long hall toward the main room of the house. He shook his head; he had missed having her around. He knew that she was safe with Djura - the retired hunter had always been a good friend of the family - but he felt relieved that his one and only was home with him.

Even though she had only been gone for three years and had been home for nearly a full year, Henryk still awoke in the night to the thought of her being gone once more. He hadn't formed an opinion on how much time Viola was spending with Gascoigne, but he was sure he didn't mind. He shook himself from his musings and walked into the main room. He nodded his head to his hunting partner in greeting.

"Be back before the sunrise, hmm?"

Viola rolled her bright green eyes before kissing her father's cheek. "Good night, father." She placed her arm in the crook of Gascoigne's elbow and entered the night. She looked up at the nearly full moon and took in a deep breath. She let her eyes rest on the man she had taken quite a liking to, who had decided to try and court her for her affections, and noticed how his jaw was slightly clenched and, despite the ease with which he went through his normal motions, how tense his whole body had become.

"Gascoigne."

The older man, fifteen years the twenty-four year old's senior, turned his gaze down to the voice. He visibly eased even as he turned to look once more at the moon.

"Luna doesn't harm willingly," Viola spoke softly as they began their walk. They never did much on the nights they went out; a walk through the Yharnam streets was usually enough, sometimes talking and sometimes in a still, comfortable silence. "If you would allow me to aid you-"

"I cannot be around anyone during a full moon's night," Gascoigne's voice was calm, concerned, and stern all at once. He shook his head just slightly, as if trying to get a strand of hair away from his line of vision. "Whether your Luna means well or not, it is not a pretty sight."

"I'm quite sure I've seen - done - things more ghastly than whatever 'beast' you may turn into, darling," Viola smiled up at him, but her eyes were dangerously serious. She turned toward the moon once more and the pain from nearly a year before became a dull sensation in her abdomen. Her pause in step must have been more obvious than she had thought, as Gascoigne had stopped mid-step to gaze upon her with concern.

Gascoigne placed a hand at the base of Viola's back, keeping the other arm free in case she fell forward. His golden brown eyes were full of worry; he remembered the pain she was in during their first meeting, the pain that had her fists bunched in the fabric of his vest all the way to the older part of the city.

Viola shook her head, moving the arm she hadn't realized she'd put around her stomach. The corners of her lips turned up just slightly, in a failed attempt at a smile.

"It's nothing."

"You're not a very good liar," Gascoigne retorted, not removing his hand from her back. "Do you need to rest?"

After a moment's hesitation, Viola nodded and allowed herself to be led to a nearby bench. The two sat in silence, Viola nestled safely against Gascoigne's side, an arm around her protectively.

"Do you have any clues as to what Iosefka did?"

Viola startled just slightly at the break in silence. She bit her lip and shook her head. "None. I haven't been back since the night at Oeden Chapel."

"I visited her the other day, and she was as normal as ever. Eager to help and kind as could be." It wasn't that Gascoigne didn't believe Viola when she spoke of this strange not-Iosefka-yet-still-Iosefka; he just found it odd that there was the chance of Iosefka being so different to the one he knew.

"That's the Iosefka I grew up knowing," Viola nearly whispered. "She used to teach me how to mix antidotes and other medicines. She taught me how to understand the medical terms in my family's journals. Then, one night it all changed. It was before the night you found me, but not too long before." She paused, a chill going down her spine and causing her to shiver. She curled into Gascoigne as his arm tightened around her. "It was like watching a transformation, man to wolf, but… but it was all in her mind. She fought and she fought, and I tried to help; I was no use to her. Something got in her brain, like a beast but worse. She tried to come after me that night, but I had my gun. The silver stunned her back to her old self, and I ran."

Gascoigne watched as Viola unknowingly curled in on herself. He cupped her face with his free hand and titled her chin up. There was a half second of hesitation before he kissed her. The moment stopped as Viola realized what was happening before she returned the gesture, practically melting.

It was a long kiss, comforting and calming, and it was their first kiss.

Viola's pain faded once more, and Gascoigne no longer felt impending doom from the large moon above them. Even after the kiss ended and the two pulled away, they sat in the comforting quiet of the night. 

"Perhaps we should pay her a visit."

Viola tensed momentarily at the suggestion before letting out a long breath and relaxing. She nodded. "Maybe that would be best." She stood, reluctantly leaving the warmth of his side. She held out a hand to him, smiling as he took it and stood.

-  
"Iosefka?"

The blonde woman in the white dress came around the corner, smile on her face. "Oh! Father Gascoigne!" She bowed her head and peered around the large man to look at the woman beside him. "Viola? It's been so long since I've seen you."

Viola almost flinched as Iosefka hugged her. She returned the gesture cautiously. "I've been around." She smiled just slightly. She took in the appearance of her old friend, noting the splatters of old blood on her dress that hadn't come out in the wash. The vials and books on the shelves were different than the ones she remembered; newer titles that definitely seemed to fit the not-Iosefka she found herself wary of meeting again.

Iosefka's smile stayed on her face as she looked between the two. "How can I be of service this evening? Does Henryk need more antidotes, or are there more serious matters?" She looked to Gascoigne, raising an eyebrow.

"Trust me," Gascoigne chuckled. "The beast is calm." He shook his head and turned to Viola. "We just thought we'd come by and see how you're faring."

"Rather well," Iosefka smiled, watching the two with careful eyes. She paused a moment, her gaze lingering on Viola a moment longer than the slightly younger woman felt comfortable with.

Viola shifted her weight from one foot to the other, trying to ignore the pain that was trying to reinstate itself in her torso.

"The Great Ones have a plan for you."

Viola's eyes widened and she shook her head, hoping she wasn't the only one who heard the change in Iosefka's voice. She looked to Gascoigne, silently pleading - for what, she couldn't remember as her head filled with a fog.

Gascoigne's instincts kicked in and he lifted Viola into his arms in the same motion as knocking Iosefka's feet out from under her and leaving the clinic. He ran until they were near Viola's home once more.

"She keeps saying that. The Great Ones - what about them - who even still believes in them," Viola mumbled as Gascoigne set her on her feet. She stayed propped up against him. "No one really believed in them in the journals at the time of the scourge. They kept trying to create them, but they had been gone for so long…" She shook her head rapidly, clearing the fog out of it. She took in a deep breath and let it out slowly.

"These journals," Gascoigne began, "have you looked into them since you were young?"

Viola looked up at her home, not realizing they had continued walking after he had set her down. "I haven't." She stood on her own as she opened the door to her house. After a pause, she grabbed hold of Gascoigne's hand and led him inside. She shut the door and went down the hall, stopping at an old red door.

"Our study," Viola murmured as they walked in, as if the room needed explaining with all of the leather-bound books lining the walls. Some were in near pristine condition, others had burnt edges or entire spines missing. "It's the only room to not be changed since the house was first built by my ancestors."

Gascoigne watched in an awe of sorts as he followed Viola around the room with his eyes. Her smile, the way her slim fingers traced over the books as if they were delicate flowers. He knew from stories Henryk had told him, that she used her small and seemingly vulnerable stature to manipulate and overpower her targets.

When dawn came, Henryk became slightly alarmed at the open study door. He knew he had closed all of them when he had left for the night. The sight he saw as he nearly barreled into the room made him chuckle.

Viola was laying on the floor with her head in Gascoigne's lap, an open journal laying face down on her chest and a few closed ones on her legs. Gascoigne was sitting against the sofa - why the two of them had opted for the floor instead of the sofa, Henryk would never understand - with a couple journals around him as well.

Henryk cleared his throat, laughing as his daughter shot up, her hand going for the dress pocket her gun would have been in had she still carried it with her.

"Father!"

"Apologies, dear one," Henryk tried to stifle his laughter. He nodded to the still asleep Gascoigne and raised an eyebrow.

Viola quietly stood up and grabbed Henryk by the upper arm, leading him down the hall to the main room. Her eyes were almost dangerous if it weren't for the slept-in disheveled state of her braided bun.

"We went to see Iosefka," Viola's voice was still hushed, not wanting to wake the large man in the room down the hall. "She said the same thing, that the Great Ones have a plan for me; he was helping with researching through our family's journals to see what they had to say about them and the false ones, and-" She cut herself off as a pain flared through her head and quickly vanished.

"Vi?"

"It's nothing father," Viola smiled briefly. "In any case, tonight is the full moon. We should make sure our friends are safe, yes?"

"Cut your old man some slack and let him get some rest won't ya; what do you think I've been doing out all night?" Henryk grinned. He hugged Viola and turned, walking down the   
hall and to his own room.

Viola smiled as she watched her father. He didn't speak much to anyone besides her, and now Gascoigne, but he was a caring man. His heart was just as big as her own, and his spirit just as kind. All Viola knew in life, she learned from Henryk.

"He is a good man."

Viola jumped at the sudden voice behind her, spinning to face the culprit behind the fright.

"Didn't mean to scare you there, love." Gascoigne chuckled. "I'm not a very deep sleeper, 'm afraid."

Viola shrugged. "I don't see how you even managed to fall asleep sitting up." She paused, "I'm also rather sorry that I didn't let you return home last night."

"I believe I can forgive it," Gascoigne smiled, gently taking her hand and laying a small kiss on the back of it. "I'll be taking my leave now, to prepare for the moon tonight."

Viola watched him as he stood back to his full height. She noticed something in his smile; he didn't trust himself after transformation. She eyed him carefully before smiling; it didn't reach her eyes, and though Gascoigne noticed, he said nothing.

Gascoigne bowed, a few dark grey hairs covering his face momentarily before he regained full height once more. "Until the waning moon."

Viola nodded, watching as he left her home. The night would not come for a while yet, and she still had much reading to do. So far, nothing in the journals was the least bit helpful, but she was determined if nothing else.


	3. Chapter Three

"Gascoigne."

The full moon hung high in the sky, casting light and shadows throughout the streets of Yharnam. Many werewolves knew that hunters would be patrolling the streets, looking for crazed strays that had gotten lost on their way to either shelter or victim. It was unfortunate on full moon nights that halflings and full werewolves were treated the same - kill on sight.

"Gascoigne."

The beast turned, lips curled back in a snarl and big eyes glowing a deep amber. If the man was tall, the beast was taller. Long arms ending in claw-tipped fingers twitched in anticipation. He had a lot of mass and could be seen as a potential threat, but he stood still, quite obviously not having the instinct to kill whatever came across him.

"You know your name."

The creature tilted his head, peering curiously at the woman clad in deep blue in front of him; the color was calming, and the red brooch attached at the neck of her blouse caught his attention. He watched, almost taking a step back as she came closer to him.

"I'm here to help. You know who I am."

He stopped, letting her come closer. He watched, eyes never leaving her. He slowly reached an arm out, his hand moving to point at the red brooch. He cried out as a silver bullet lodged itself in his elbow. His arm jerked back and he felt fabric under his claws and the smell of blood reached his nose.

"No! Stop!"

"Miss Viola, are you alright?"

Viola turned to one of the hunters who came up beside her, her green eyes narrowed. She ignored the pain in her chest as she stepped once more toward the large werewolf.

"Gascoigne. Listen to me; it's your fiancé. It's Viola, listen."

The beast, obviously in pain, looked at the small retired hunter. He could smell the blood coming from her wounds, and deep within him he knew he was the cause of them. He recoiled as she reached to touch his wounded arm; human flesh was beginning to show around where the bullet was stuck.

Viola hesitated a moment before once more reaching for his arm. She was as gentle as she could be, trying to distract him from the two men who had arrived. Just as she heard another gun go off, Gascoigne had pushed her to the ground behind him, a bellowing roar coming from deep within, ending in a whimper.

"I said stop! He's not harming anyone!"

"Miss Viola, you know our oath. Kill or be killed, now go home."

"You're retired, remember?"

Viola pulled her gun from her pocket as she stood up. She moved in front of Gascoigne once more, noting how his uninjured arm draped over her shoulder, shielding her from any fatal injury. She took aim.

"If I pull this, your both dead. You know what my bullets do; retired or no, I'm still a hunter. I can still take you down. He isn't a threat."

After the two hunters made their hasty retreat, Viola felt the weight of the giant werewolf coming down on her.

"No, no, my love," Viola managed a chuckle. "We have to get you off the streets."

-

"He isn't a threat, father! I've told you this; you know this first hand. Theo and Gregory frightened him! They shot at him from out of sight." Viola winced as her father put some sort of ointment on the claw marks. They reached from her left collarbone down to just between her breasts. She sat on the sofa in the study in her cream night dress, her hair in a long braid down her back.

"He's still a werewolf, Viola," Henryk muttered as he put a bandage over the wound. "You should be more careful."

"It wasn't any fault of mine," Viola muttered, "or his." She grabbed her father's chin with her hand and made him look her in the eyes. She stood from the sofa and left the room, walking down the hall to where she had left her soon-to-be-husband in her bed to recover. She had brought him home halfway through his transformation back to being human, extracted the bullets, and given him a tonic to help him sleep and heal.

"I hurt you."

Viola shook her head as she walked across the room. She pulled herself up on her bed, sitting beside the man laying in it. She traced her fingertips over some of the scars littering his chest and arms.

"It's not your fault."

Gascoigne lifted his arm slowly, gently grabbing her hand from his chest and simply holding it. He looked at her hand, taking in every line and detail. He noted how, though they looked as if they should be soft, her hands were slightly calloused and also strong despite the delicate structure.

"You were more in control than ever," Viola spoke softly, watching him for a reaction. She smiled when he didn't grimace or negate her comment. "It's not your fault this happened; it was those two imbeciles-" She stopped speaking suddenly as Gascoigne couldn't help but chuckle at the rage building up within her.

"My apologies, love," he smiled, turning over on his side with a slight grunt so that he could face her. He gently dropped her hand and cupped her face. He smiled as she leaned into his hand. "You grow more lovely each day, and here I am, a beast capable of hurting you fatally." His smile had faded.

Viola shook her head. "You were protecting me, my darling." She looked him in the eyes, placing her hand on top of his. "And even in the times you were not in total control, the times before last night, you never harmed me when we were alone." She let out a small sigh before curling in closer to him, resting her head against his chest. "You cannot hurt the ones you love."

Henryk listened from outside the room. He had been planning on following Viola inside, protesting - protesting what? He shook his head and turned away from the closed door. He knew from experience that Viola was his child through and through, living her own life in her way. She was a free spirit, and he should have known to trust her instincts when it came to people. He should have learned that early in her life, yet he still tried to pretend at times that she was the little girl afraid of thunder storms who ran away from stray dogs on the street.

The hunter couldn't remember when it had all changed, couldn't remember the day that his world turned upside down and his daughter became the strong woman he knew now. He couldn't lie and say he didn't miss the days she would run to him wanting a story or to stay in his bed while the storm passed. However, Henryk was proud of who Viola had become, and if she had to betroth herself to any man, he was glad it was Gascoigne. Though he was part beast, the outsider to Yharnam was a good man and Henryk knew he would take care of Viola as much as Viola would care for him.

Henryk returned to the study, situated himself at the desk and opened the dark yellow journal to the halfway point. He began writing, as he had been doing the past few days and nights trying to jot down all he knew. His experiences were nowhere near as adventurous or daring as those of his forefathers, but he found a sort of solace in writing out his memories. His strands of thought were more coherent and linear than those in the ancient journals of his family, and he sometimes wondered if the little side notes were caused by the scourge that had happened so many decades before.

His interest in the damning beast plague had started when he was but a boy, learning the tricks of the trade from his grandfather - a man who was born as the city was being rebuilt. He had become obsessed with reading the journals, and, in retrospect, he had passed that obsession down to his daughter. He had never really thought himself fit to be a father, and how he wished his wife had survived, but all things considered, Viola turned out alright. He found that many of his journal entries were about his daughter and his late wife, and how he actually didn't enjoy the hunt like many of the others.

Unlike the other hunters, and much unlike those of the past, Henryk did not take pleasure in having to kill his friends. When he looked around at the hunters, he saw history trying to repeat itself. Except, this time, there was no healing blood or terrible dream, and the Great Ones were a thing of myth. There were few people who still prayed to them, and fewer still who actually believed they could do anything. Still, the journal entry he realized he was halfway through writing was about the idea of the Great Ones, and the healer at the clinic across town.

"Father."

Henryk jolted from his thoughts and looked to the doorway. He couldn't remember if he had shut the door or not, but he supposed it didn't much matter at that point. He looked to see his daughter, still bandaged up, standing in front of Gascoigne.

"Come in, come in. Both of you," Henryk said, nodding as he spoke and motioned with his hand. He watched the two enter, looking between them. He laughed as Viola plopped herself in his lap. "What can I do for ya?"

Gascoigne chuckled as he sat on the sofa.

Viola grabbed the journal off of the desk, "This one's new."

"That's because it's mine, dear one," Henryk grinned, taking it back and closing it. He set it aside and kissed Viola's cheek. "My child, you are not a little girl anymore, and I am getting quite old."

Viola rolled her eyes and hopped off her father's lap. She turned and sat on the sofa beside Gascoigne. "We were thinking of having the wedding soon."

"You've only been engaged seven months."

"And he insisted on courting me for a year and a half before he proposed," Viola said, chuckling and shaking her head. She shrugged. "Only a small ceremony, father. Perhaps we could ask Amelia? She's always been a good friend, and I'm sure Chappie would allow us use of the chapel."

Henryk sighed in mock defeat. "I shall make the arrangements."

"I'll go make tea then, to celebrate," Viola chuckled, quickly kissing Gascoigne's cheek before hugging her father and leaving the room.

"My friend, you've got quite a handful to take care of," Henryk grinned.

"Aye," Gascoigne shrugged. "How I ever got to be so lucky is beyond me." He shook his head, looking toward the doorway. "She's the one who has a handful to deal with."

Henryk laughed. "Do not underestimate her, Gascoigne." He stood from his chair and gestured for his friend to do the same.

-

Viola stifled a small laugh as her father led her to the altar where her future husband waited. She looked at his grey and black attire. The vest was fitting and she quite liked the way he looked in the outfit; however, the man in the formal wear looked nervous.

Henryk kissed the backs of Viola's hands before placing them into Gascoigne's hands. He bowed his head to the tall man before stepping to the side, standing beside his friend.  
Gascoigne swallowed, smiling down at Viola. He didn't really process the words coming from Amelia's mouth, and he couldn't really remember having to tell himself to say 'I do', but he knew he did it.

Viola smiled brightly up at Gascoigne as she repeated the words, standing up on her toes to enjoy the long first kiss as husband and wife.

Chappie was crying and clapping, and Amelia couldn't stop smiling. Though the ceremony was small, and the people there to witness it few, it was a joyous occasion the small group commemorated with a small feast and a few bottles of wine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a little fact: I have five Bloodborne fan mixes up on 8tracks. The username is librarymuse. :)


	4. Chapter Four

"And who are you?" Viola knelt down in front of the small blonde girl.  
  
"Madeline."

"She's been a great help around here," Chappie smiled, placing a hand on the girl's shoulder. "Ever since she was brought to me."

Viola smiled up at Chappie before looking back at the seven year old. "How would you like to come home with me and my husband?" She saw the girl's eyes light up, but then darken once more.

"But then Chappie will be lonely."

"Oh, no, no, no," Chappie insisted, waving his hands. "Young one, I have the other guests of the chapel, and Miss Viola and Father Gascoigne come by to visit often." He smiled. "Please, go with them. They have a large home with many rooms and many books. You will have a good life with them."

Madeline tilted her head before hugging the chapel dweller tightly around the neck. "Thank you." She whispered in his ear before kissing his cheek. "I'll be sure to visit as soon as I can!"

Viola smiled and stood, extending a hand to Madeline. Chappie had told them of the wondrous little girl that had been brought to him after her parents mysteriously vanished, and though she was helpful to him, he thought she needed a better home than the chapel walls.

The two left the chapel, and Viola was gladly impressed with how quickly the young girl opened up and began talking.

"And then, my parents just disappeared and Lady Arianna - she was our neighbor for most of my life - came to talk to my mum, and when she found out they were gone, she brought me to Chappie!" Madeline smiled before becoming distracted by a dress in the window of a shop.

Viola watched her and smiled. "You know, we could do some shopping before I take you home."

Madeline's eyes widened. "You mean it?"

"Of course," Viola chuckled. "I want you to be comfortable in your new life."

"I do thank you," Madeline said, her voice becoming serious. "Though, I have to wonder why you were the one to come get me and not you and my new father?"

Viola chuckled. "Your father and grandfather are busy taking care of our werewolf friends. It's the day after the full moon, and we have to make sure they all made it." She kept hold of Madeline's hand as she led her into the shop.

"They're hunters?" Madeline asked as she trailed her fingers over a pale blue dress.

"I come from a family of hunters; your father is a hunter, but also part werewolf. He comes from a far off place," Viola chuckled. "Do you wish to try this one?" She nodded to the dress Madeline had her hand on. "I have a coat at home that would go well with it, from when I was younger."

The two spent a good chunk of hours going from shop to shop. They bonded quickly, and it was more than Viola could have hoped for. They came home with two dresses, a pouch full of different colored ribbons, and an armful of books.

"I see you brought home more than just a child," Henryk jested as Viola and Madeline entered the house.

"Maddie, this is your grandfather; he can be a jerk, but we love him anyway," Viola grinned, kissing her father's cheek. "Where is Gascoigne?"

"He's in the study."

Viola nodded, turning to Madeline. "I'll show you to your room first." She smiled, leading her down the hall toward Henryk's room. "I hope it's enough. We tried to prepare, but we didn't know when Chappie would let us come get you."

Madeline looked around the room in awe. She carefully, yet impatiently, put her things on the chair just inside the room before plopping on the bed. It was quite bigger than she was, and the smile on her face was enough to encourage Viola that it was good enough.

"Now come, time to meet your new father."

Madeline smiled, adjusting much quicker than a normal child would have. She slid off the bed and followed Viola down the other side of the hall.

Viola knocked on the open study door, smiling as Gascoigne turned toward her. "I've brought someone who wants to meet you."

Gascoigne stood from the chair at the desk and looked toward his wife. He tilted his head as Madeline stepped into view, and he was fairly certain his heart melted then and there.

Madeline looked up at Gascoigne, blue eyes big and smile wide. "I'm Madeline."

"And I'm Gascoigne."

"Father." Madeline said, as if correcting him. She walked up to him and held her arms up.

Gascoigne knelt down so that she could hug him, smiling as she wrapped her arms around his neck. He returned the embrace and stood up, picking her up as he did so. He walked to Viola, using his other arm to wrap around her. He kissed the top of her head.

-

That night found the family of four sitting around the table far after dinner had been finished, Henryk amusing Madeline with theatrical retellings of history. Viola and Gascoigne would interject occasionally with a laugh or a "that's definitely not how it happened." The hour soon became late and Viola and Gascoigne took Madeline to her room.

"Thank you," Madeline murmured as she snuggled under the blankets. "I couldn't have asked for better parents." She blinked slowly, sleepily.

Viola kissed the top of her head before leaving the room; Gascoigne followed soon after.

Madeline laid in bed for a while, staring up at the ceiling. She honestly couldn't remember much about her parents, for some reason. The more she tried to think about them, to remember any one little thing, the foggier her memory became. She felt true love and gratefulness to Viola and Gascoigne, and as she fell into a comfortable sleep for the first time in months, she fell asleep with a smile.

Viola let out a light breath as she took the pins out of her bun, letting the braid fall down her back. She smiled as Gascoigne came up behind her and ran his hands slowly up and down her upper arms. She leaned into his touch, closing her eyes.

"Is something bothering you, my love?"

Viola chuckled and shook her head. She turned to face him and rested her head on his chest, tracing absently over a scar on his chest. She smiled at the warmth of his arms around her, taking in his scent. He smelled of odd spices; she could never make out which ones exactly, but she enjoyed it just the same. "We made the right choice, didn't we?"

"Taking in Madeline?" Gascoigne asked. He shrugged. "She seems happy here, content at the very least." He led them to sit on the bed, Viola in his lap. "Viola, do not doubt this. We can be, and will be, good parents. And Henryk is here to help us." He ran his fingertips up and down her spine, chuckling as she shuddered in response.

"You're right," Viola smiled, kissing him and snaking her arms around his neck. She laughed as Gascoigne fell dramatically backwards from his sitting position, causing her to be sprawled on top of him. She rolled over, laying beside him.

They lay facing each other for a long while, Gascoigne's hand resting in the curve of Viola's waist and Viola's hand tracing over his chest and face.

Dawn found Viola curled up into the smallest amount of space up against her husband. Pain racked her entire body and made it hard to move. Breathing made her nerves stand on edge, and the light from outside made it hard to think about opening her eyes.

"Viola?"

All the petite woman could muster up was a small whimper. Her fists were clenched so hard her knuckles were white and her veins were visible. She flinched as Gascoigne's hand gently rested on her cheek. Loose strands of hair stuck to her face.

"Viola, I'm going to get Henryk."

"N-no." Viola grabbed at his arm as he moved to get out of the bed. Though she felt weaker than she ever had, her grip on Gascoigne's wrist was strong.

"Viola, you're in pain. Let me help." Gascoigne nearly pleaded. He gently adjusted her so her head was once more on a pillow. His heart ached for his wife, wanting to help but not knowing how.

Viola whimpered. Her grip on his wrist slacked as the pain made her black out into unconsciousness.

Gascoigne quickly and quietly left the room. He walked down the hall, checking each room looking for his father-in-law. He finally found him in the kitchen. 

"Henryk."

Henryk looked up from the breakfast he was cooking and over to Gascoigne. The tone in his friend's voice made him stop what he was doing. "What's wrong?"

"Viola, she's…" Gascoigne shook his head, not really having a way of explaining what was wrong. "It's the same as when I first saw her. She's in so much pain."

Henryk turned off the stove and followed Gascoigne back to their room. The sight of his daughter writhing and curling in on herself was nearly enough to send him into a panic. He put his hand on Gascoigne's arm, leading the man back out of the room and to the study.

"This isn't good."

Gascoigne gave Henryk a look that could have possibly killed. He nearly growled in his throat at the obvious comment.

"No, you don't understand," Henryk's voice was low as he shut the study door. "I'm not delving into your personal lives, but this is a reason that Viola wanted to take in children, not have her own."

Gascoigne raised an eyebrow, genuinely confused. "Henryk, we haven't-"

"What is happening to Viola is the same thing that happened when her mother became pregnant with her," Henryk nearly hissed. "I don't know how or what or even why; all I know is that having Viola is what killed my wife, and I don't want you or Madeline or that child to have to go through the same life Viola and I did."

Gascoigne was speechless for a moment before shaking his head. "But how could she be pregnant? We haven't- we don't-" He was honestly quite confused, and all he could think about was how to try and ease the pain. "Will the pain ever stop?"

"This could be part of Iosefka's doing," Henryk said, shaking his head. "She was a student of the old doctor when Viola was born. Maybe she's trying to experiment like they did in the past." He tapped his foot, losing himself deep in thought. He occasionally muttered to himself, Gascoigne watching all the while.

"Henryk, what should we do? We can't very well take her to Iosefka; she's terrified of the woman." Gascoigne nearly snapped, worry making his heart heavy. "She'll wake again soon, and what if the pain isn't gone, or what if it's worse?"

"You two worry too much."

The two men looked toward the frail looking woman in the doorway.

"You're awake." Gascoigne led Viola to the sofa.

Viola smiled and kissed his cheek. "Love, I'm quite alright." She flinched just slightly as she adjusted on the sofa. She shook her head. "You two haven't a need to worry; I'll live."

Henryk pursed his lips and looked at his daughter with steely eyes. "Viola."

"Father."

When Henryk said no more, Viola shrugged.

"I'm going to pay Iosefka a visit; maybe I can get to the old Iosefka, the real one."

"You can't go alone," Henryk protested.

"I have to; it's the only way I'll get any answers," Viola forced a small smile, ignoring the pain. She stood from the sofa, kissed Gascoigne, and left to change. She left the house in a blur of blue and brown.

"Where's mum going?"

Gascoigne looked at Madeline as they all entered the front room of the house. He scooped her up into his arms, "She's going to visit an old friend."

-

"Iosefka!" Viola nearly collapsed on the floor inside of the clinic. She blinked rapidly as she saw the white-clad woman come into view.

"Viola! Oh my- What has happened to you?" Iosefka caught Viola before she hit the hardwood floor. She led her to a small room in the back of the clinic, helping her sit up on a bed. "You look so pale, and your skin is so warm." She frantically looked for a cloth in the small room, dunking it in cool water and wringing it out before patting at Viola's face.

Viola let the spazzing doctor finish what she was doing before grabbing her wrists. "Iosefka. I need you to tell me what you did to me."

Iosefka stopped for a moment and looked directly into Viola's eyes. As if a switch was flipped, the woman's golden eyes darken and she grinned. "I wondered when you would return." Her eyes drifted to Viola's torso and she chuckled. "Do you wish to get rid of the pain? Or get rid of the problem?"

The smirk on the woman's face made Viola internally cringe, and she subconsciously wrapped an arm around herself protectively, instinctively. "She's not a problem."

Iosefka nearly cackled, shaking her head as she calmed herself. She left the room momentarily, returning after a few moments with an ancient bottle of partially coagulated blood.

Viola gagged at the smell, and flinched as Iosefka drew some of it into a needle.

"Just close your eyes; you needed pure blood to begin the process, but now - to keep you alive - your blood must become tainted," Iosefka quickly injected the blood into Viola's arm, wrapping her arm afterwards. She shook the bottle just slightly. "I'll make you some dosages. Though, you'll have to be careful not to overdue it. You'll feel more invincible, may experience strange sights and sounds - it's normal."

Viola looked from her bandaged arm to the friend-turned-stranger before her. She watched as small vials were filled and placed in a carefully organized pouch.

"It may also help to not let anyone know what it is-"

"I don't even know what it is." Viola interjected. Iosefka was right, though, she noted; the pain was immediately gone and she felt more invigorated than she had in months.

Iosefka's smirk grew once more as she placed the pouch of vials in Viola's hands. "Great One blood."

The words rang through Viola's mind as she left the clinic and began the walk home. The early evening air was calm and cool, but to the young retired hunter it held an ominous tune. The second the thought of throwing the blood to the ground crossed her mind, pulses of pain were sent through her entire body. No one had spoken of the Great Ones in decades; it was well known that blood the likes of the product in her hand was what caused the first scourge of beasts and the downfall of Yharnam.

Viola looked to the sky, hoping for the best, but planning on expecting the worst. Perhaps it was selfish, and she wasn't heeding the messages and adages of the past, but she knew the presence within her would be a key part of her life, and she couldn't allow it to die.


	5. Chapter Five

Viola winced just slightly as she injected one of the small vials. It had only been a week since she had visited Iosefka, but she was starting to think she'd have to go see her again soon. She looked at the half empty pouch of blood vials before wrapping it back up into an incense-drenched cloth to hide the scent.

"Daddy and Grandad are home!"

Viola chuckled to herself as she stood from her vanity. She put the pouch into a drawer and left the room, laughing as Gascoigne hugged her, picking her up and spinning her around. She stumbled a half step as she was set back on her feet, placing a hand on her stomach. "Easy, love."

Gascoigne's smile faltered briefly before he nodded, jovial once more. "Forgive me, my love. I forgot."

Viola rolled her eyes, smiling. "All is forgiven, you big oaf." She chuckled. She turned to Henryk and hugged him. "Welcome back, even though you've only been gone a few hours."

"We're grateful for the welcoming party," Henryk grinned, picking up Madeline and kissing her temple. "With this little one around, every day is bright."

Madeline giggled and wrapped her arms around Henryk's neck, kissing his cheek. "Grandad loves me the most." She grinned teasingly.

The family of four situated themselves at the dining room table for the afternoon tea Madeline had made. She had made it a habit and a daily tradition.

After tea finished, Madeline joined Henryk in the study to look through the journals and books. Madeline's interest in knowledge impressed everyone, and how quickly she caught on to new concepts was fascinating. While Madeline bonded with her grandfather, Viola and Gascoigne went to their room.

"What…" Gascoigne sniffed the air. "What is that smell?" He paused. "Is that me?" He sniffed his arm and then looked around the room once again. "Is it… you?" He tilted his head and took a step closer to Viola.

Viola wrung her hands together momentarily before sighing. "What do you smell?"

"Decay," Gasoigne replied. "Mixed with blood and new life."

"Then that would be me," Viola murmured. She sat at her vanity and opened the drawer. She removed the rag from the pouch. "This is what is keeping me, and this child, alive."

"You mean the child that mysteriously appeared and we're not even sure how or why, but it's growing quicker than it should?"

"Well when you put it that way," Viola raised an eyebrow at him. She shook her head. "When I went to visit Iosefka, she gave me these. One or two a day and there's no pain. The more I use during a day, the faster the child grows, but if I use too many, I get these strange visions - hallucinations?" She looked at the pouch and then at Gascoigne. "I have to go see her again soon. Perhaps then, we'll know how this child came to be."

Gascoigne was still for a moment before kneeling beside the chair and taking Viola's hands in his. He kissed the back of each hand before cupping her face. "Whatever happens, I will be by your side." He looked at the pouch of blood and wrinkled his nose. "Even though that stuff is making you smell…" He trailed off and looked to the ground. "Dead."

Viola caught his hands as he began to let them drop from her face. She held onto one and used her free hand to lift his chin. "My darling, I will live." Her stomach flipped and she groaned quietly, squeezing Gascoigne's hand just slightly.

"Two children, who would have thought?" Gascoigne smiled, kissing her hand. Amber eyes met emerald, and for a moment the world seemed to stop. "Us."

Viola chuckled. "You're the one who told me not to worry and doubt, remember?" She patted his cheek before standing from her chair once more and helping her husband to his feet. "Come now, my love, let us go to the shops. We're running low on food."

Gascoigne nodded and left the room, stopping by the study. "We're going out to town, would either of you care to join us?"

Madeline jumped up from her spot at the desk and nodded, smiling. "I'd love to!" She turned to Henryk. "Grandad?"

Henryk chuckled and shook his head. "I'll just stay at home; you go spend time with your parents. Bring me back something fun." He waved the three of them off before returning to the journal on the desk.

Madeline jogged from the study to the front room and slipped on her shoes. She grabbed Viola and Gascoigne's hands and practically drug them out of the house. It was a sight to see, truthfully. The late afternoon sun kept the family in good spirits as they walked through the bustling streets of Yharnam.

Viola laughed as Madeline pressed her hands and face against a shop window displaying freshly baked cakes and treats. She looked at the items they had already purchased nestled in the crook of Gascoigne's arm or hanging on his wrist in bags, and smiled. She slipped her arm from the crook of his free elbow and quietly entered the bake shop.

"Mum?" Madeline tilted her head as Viola exited the bakery. She looked at the small box in Viola's hands. "Treats?"

Viola nodded, smiling. She laced her arm with Gascoigne's once more and looked to the night sky. "We'll eat them once we get home, Maddie." She chuckled. Pain was beginning to set it once more, and she knew if she didn't take her dosage of blood soon enough she would be unable to move.

Once they returned home, Viola went to her room to retrieve a vial only to find Henryk standing in the doorway, knowing eyes staring deep into her being.

"Father."

"Viola, what is this…"

Viola bit her lip. She knew she should have put the pouch back into the vanity drawer, and she reprimanded herself for forgetting. "It's what is keeping me alive; it's what-" She gasped as a wave of pain hit. "It's what's keeping this child from killing me." She leaned against the door, listening for Gascoigne and Madeline, both of which were in the kitchen putting up the day's haul. "Father, please understand."

"You know what our journals say, what our history says - Viola, this is the opposite of what our ancestors would want." Henryk shook his head, nearly breaking the vial in his clenched fist.

"Our ancestors would wish me to die instead?" Viola nearly snapped, but managed to keep her voice low to avoid alerting her husband or daughter. "Father, please, please believe that I know what I'm doing. Trust me."

Henryk was silent. He looked at the vial and then his daughter, who was becoming more pale and frail as she stood. He led her over to the chair at the vanity and handed her the vial in his hand. 

Viola smiled softly, kissing the palm of her father's hand as he placed it on her cheek. "Thank you." She waited for Henryk to leave the room before injecting herself with the vial. She winced and sighed, placing a hand on her stomach. "Be strong little one." She gasped and doubled over, pain paralyzing her momentarily. "Not that strong, please." She slowly straightened herself back up, wrapping the pouch up and placing back in the drawer. She stood and looked at herself in the mirror, noticing the bump had grown even more since that morning. She shook her head. "You're going to be a handful, aren't you?" She chuckled quietly.

"Love, are you going to join us for dinner?"

Viola looked from her reflection to her husband in the doorway. She smiled and nodded, following him down the hall and into the dining room where her father and daughter were sitting at the table. She joined them and took in a deep breath, enjoying the smell of the dinner before them. 

"So, Maddie, what did you bring me back from the shops?" Henryk asked halfway through dinner as he looked at his granddaughter.

Madeline's blue eyes widened and she looked at Viola.

"Go get the box," Viola chuckled, nodding toward the box on the counter from the bakery.

Madeline nodded and jumped up from her seat. She brought the box back and handed it to Henryk.

Henryk raised an eyebrow at his daughter and exchanged a looked with Gascoigne before opening the box. "Well look what we have here," he grinned at the cupcakes and cookies in the box. "Looks like someone splurged on some sweets."

Viola smiled. "I thought it a good idea since we've had a lot of changes in the house in the past few weeks." She began to clear the dishes from the table, but was stopped by Gascoigne.

The large man stood and took the dishes from Viola, kissing her forehead and finishing the collecting of plates. He chuckled at Viola's grunt of disagreement and stole a cookie out of the box as he came to sit back in his seat.

Viola shook her head and chuckled, laying a hand on her husband's leg. She watched as the thee around her ate the sweets. The thought of them made her slightly nauseous, and suddenly every noise in the room was too loud and the lights were too bright.

The next thing she knew, Viola opened her eyes to the sun rising through the study window. Her head was pounding and her vision blurred. She wiped at her eyes, groaning as she tried to sit up on the sofa.

"Viola!"

She heard the worried tone in her husband's voice and turned to look at him, but could only make out a vague outline and shapes. She opened her mouth to speak, but no sound came out. She grabbed at her throat, panic rising higher and higher until she couldn't breathe.

And then she woke up.

And around her was darkness, save for the light from the waning gibbous in the sky. She blinked to be sure her vision hadn't left her. She looked around her, not remembering how she came to be in bed with her husband. She rolled over to face the large, still sleeping, man. She smiled softly and laid a hand on his cheek. She winced at the kick in her abdomen and groaned. She sat up and slowly moved to get out of bed.

"Viola?"

"Hello my love," Viola smiled, turning to face Gascoigne. She hadn't made it off of the bed yet, but her legs dangled a good foot off of the ground.

"You're alright."

Viola tilted her head at the mix of relief and disbelief in his voice. "Of course I'm alright, dear. Why wouldn't I be?" She winced once more at the sudden burst of pain in her stomach; it was stronger than the previous one and she knew the next one would be even worse.

Gascoigne sat up and got out of the bed. He walked to the vanity and grabbed the pouch of vials. "You passed out after dinner. Worried all of us, took me forever to get Madeline to go to bed." He held the pouch out to Viola, but pursed his lips as he saw how shaky her hands were. "Let me help?"

Viola paused a moment before nodding. She watched as he carefully filled the needle from the vial and injected it into her upper leg. She chuckled as he placed a small kiss where the needle had gone. "You are the most gentle man."

Gascoigne smiled up at her from his kneeling position by the bed. He took hold of her steadying hands and kissed the back of each. "Are you surprised?"

With a small chuckle, Viola gave his hands a gentle tug to signal for him to rejoin her on their bed. She curled up against him, smiling as he laid a hand on her stomach.

"You know I worry," Gascoigne murmured. "That this child is growing too quickly; Henryk and I worry it will take you, just as-"

Viola cut him off with a quick kiss. "My darling, though she is rapidly developing, she will not take me from you or Madeline or my father." She placed a hand on his cheek and ran her thumb over the hair on his jawline. "Gascoigne, I will make it through this, as will the child. We will have this family." She smiled, her eyes becoming heavy with sleep once more.

Gascoigne faintly returned her smile, placing his lips on her forehead. "I trust you, now let's get back to rest."


	6. Chapter Six

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two weeks late and a dollar short, I suppose. But here it is! Sorry y'all, I was on vacation.  
> Chapter seven will also be out this week, so yay!

"You know there's no surviving this."

Viola looked at her shaking hands before looking back at Iosefka.

"In the end, the child will live only if you do not."

Viola watched as the healer continued hooking up the transfusion. She sighed and rested her hands on her stomach. "I have to make it."

Iosefka listened to the words, barely a whisper coming from the slightly younger woman, and clicked her tongue against the roof of her mouth.

"Hold out your arm and lie down."

Viola nodded and did as instructed. She looked up at the ceiling of the clinic and blinked, taking in a quick breath as Iosefka secured the needle in her arm. She honestly hated how useless the vial injections had become. She never quite enjoyed spending a night away from home, and - not surprisingly - neither did Gascoigne. She could tell when she returned the morning after a transfusion that her husband hadn't slept a wink.

A sharp pain in her stomach snapped Viola from her thoughts; she opened her mouth to scream but no sound came. She tried to call for Gascoigne, for Madeline, her father, even Iosefka, but it was no use. She looked around the nondescript room for some sign as to where she was. It almost looked like home, but the red blurring around the edges of her vision made it quite obvious something wasn't right. She moved to sit up in what appeared to be her bed, but pain nearly paralyzed her at every small movement.

"Mum…"

Viola looked toward Madeline, tears running from her big blue eyes - distraught and holding a small bundle close to her chest. A sudden yell and Viola turned her attention to the scene across the room. Her vision blurred once more and she tried to shake it off, but to no avail.

-

When she came to once more, she immediately knew she wasn't yet awake. She could move this time, however, and she stood. She looked around the area, taking in the sight of the old house up the stairs in front of her and the tombstones lining the walkway.

"Welcome home, Good Hunter."

Viola looked toward the woman at the foot of the steps. "Hunter? Oh, no, I'm not-"

"Only hunters come to the dream. I am a doll, here to help."

"A doll…" Viola shook her head. "But-"

"You are here, and therefore you are a hunter." The Doll smiled just slightly as she tilted her head. "Come, sit." She sat at the raised edge and patted the spot beside her.

Viola hesitated a moment before accepting the offer. "The Hunter's Dream…" She murmured, almost in awe. "I thought it was only legend." She was shocked from her thoughts by the Doll's quaint laugh - a distant echo of ringing bells.

"It has been many decades since a hunter last passed through this dream," the Doll mused. "I have lie in wait for the new hunters; the Great Ones have awaited the new hunters." Her pale green eyes drifted to the moon hanging in the sky - too close for comfort, in truth.

"If the Great Ones really are to return, will the scourge claim those of beast blood?"

"It is possible," the Doll gave a small shrug. "I do not know all of the details, but once your child is born, the Great Ones will begin gaining power once more. Beware the changing healer; she has been in contact with the Great Ones."

"My child…? How..?"

Another chiming of bells, the Doll gave Viola a tiny smile. "My dear hunter, I have learned much from the past, and I know when another battle begins to break free. The scourge will return, and it is up to you and the other brave few to keep it under control."

Viola let her words sink in through the following silence.

"If the truce between your werewolves and your hunters is true, then the scourge shall pose much less of a threat than it did to your ancestors," she paused. "However, I already know there are many among your ranks that would enjoy the chaos of the hunts of your past."

-

Viola shot up on the uncomfortable bed in the clinic, panting and blinking sweat out of her eyes. She held one hand on her chest and the other on her stomach. She turned toward the single window to see the sun peeking through the dark curtains. She slowed her breathing and looked down at her arm; the needle was removed and her arm was already bandaged. She smiled softly as she slipped off the bed and onto her feet.

Shuddering at the cold floor, she slipped her shoes on and made her way out of the clinic; the previous night's dream replaying in her head. The Doll felt like a home away from home, a distant memory that wrapped around her and comforted her. She eventually found herself in front of her house. She looked up at the door, but before she could open it, her father stepped out.

"Viola! You made it home!" Henryk hugged her as tightly as her swollen stomach would allow. "Go in before your husband's heart gives out." He kissed her cheek and walked past her to be on his way.

Viola chuckled quietly and walked in, shutting the door behind her. She laughed as she was nearly barreled over by her daughter.

"Mummy's home!"

"Well hello to you too Maddie; I was only gone a night," Viola smiled, kneeling down and hugging the seven year old. "You can't have missed me that much."

Madeline stepped back from the hug and shook her head. "We miss you whenever you leave."

Viola kissed Madeline's forehead and stood up once more. "Now where is your father?"

"Pacing the study, as usual." Madeline smiled before skipping to the kitchen.

Viola sighed and walked down the hallway. She folded her arms across her chest and leaned against the doorframe. "You keep doing that and you'll wear a hole in the carpet."

Gascoigne's head snapped up at the sound of his wife's voice. His golden eyes widened and then relaxed; the tension in his body released itself and he smiled. In a blink he had Viola scooped up in his arms, bridal style, nuzzling his face into her neck.

"I don't like it."

"I know, my love. But the smell will go away," Viola wrapped her arms gently around his neck. She kissed his cheek and then turned his face toward her to kiss his lips. "You really should sleep."

Gascoigne shook his head, "I will now." He left the study and walked to their room. He sat on the bed with Viola cradled on his lap in his arms.

Viola chuckled. "Are we to sleep all day?"

"Tonight is a full moon; we'll both need our rest," Gascoigne retorted, his tone trying to be light.

Viola curled up against him as they both lie down.

-

"It is quite interesting to see a hunter during the daylight hours."

"Oh, Doll," Viola rubbed her eyes as she stood from the spot on the ground. She sat beside the Doll as she had done what seemed like moments ago. "Is this where I'm going to come whenever I sleep?"

"Not likely. Soon you will come even when you are awake." The Doll tilted her head curiously; her small smile sending a small chill down Viola's spine.

"Is it because of the blood?"

The Doll nodded. "Indeed. The blood of the Great Ones runs through your veins, and through the child." She looked to the sky and then to the graves lining the pathway. "Blood is the beginning, and blood is the end. I was not always full of such knowledge."

Viola looked into the Doll's eyes as she turned back to face her.

"I have kept my watch over would be hunters for the past near century, and I have taken care of this dream since the Blood Moon from so long ago," something shone in the glass of the Doll's eyes, something near regret, touching on the edge of sadness.

The two sat in silence for quite a while before the Doll stood and walked to a path behind the house.

Viola watched but decided not to follow; instead, she turned her attention to the house. It was quite old, and looked like it may have burned once. She stood and walked slowly up the steps to the open door. She could hear quiet grumbles coming from inside, and the feeling of warmth as she got closer was rather inviting.

"Ah. A hunter."

"Everyone assumes that," Viola smiled slightly, perturbed. "I'm retired, and not the same type of hunter that you're thinking of, I'm sure."

The man in the wheelchair waved a hand nonchalantly. "Not important. Important thing is that you are a hunter." He looked Viola up and down and then bowed as best he could from his sitting position. "I am Gehrman, an actual retired hunter."

"One of the first," Viola smiled. She bowed as best she could in return, ignoring the slight pain in her stomach as she did so. "My family has extensive journals on the hunts of the past, and of those that took part in them."

Gehrman's lip twitched in something that resembled a smirk. "Then you know there's only way to end the coming scourge."

"Fire will not take the city again," Viola said, her entire demeanor changing. "Hunters and Werewolves live in harmony. We've made sure of it, my family has."

"Oh is that so?" Gehrman laughed. "We thought we had it under control as well, but you've seen how that turned out."

Viola crossed her arms and rolled her eyes. "The journals were right about you, in any case." She shook her head and left the house. "Crotchety old train wreck."

-

Pain surged through her and in a split second Viola was yanked from the Hunter's Dream and back into reality. She sat up in shock, holding her stomach and blinking away the bright sun filtering in through the curtains. She gasped and tried to still her racing heart.  
"Viola?"

She winced at the worry in her dear husband's voice and reached a hand behind her to place it over his. "I'm quite alright my love."

Gascoigne sat up and wrapped his arms around her from behind, nuzzling into her neck. "Is it time we prepare for the moon?"

Viola chuckled, "My love, as I have said many times before, Luna does not harm intentionally; you are also not dangerous."

Gascoigne snorted in response and shook his head. "My darling, you say these things, but it doesn't change the fact that you have married a creature of nightmares."

Viola turned to face him, eyebrow quirked. "Gascoigne. I have seen nightmares, and you are not one of them." She gently laid a hand on his cheek and smiled just slightly. "However, if you insist, I suppose we should be ready for the night." She slipped off of the bed and looked down at her bandaged arm. She squinted at it in confusion, seeing the bandages soaked with blood before blinking. She shook her head and blinked once more to make sure there was actually no blood.

-

The night's full moon found Viola sitting on the roof of a building in Old Yharnam with Djura artfully watching the grand doors to the ruined city and a transformed Gascoigne curled up in a ball much like a large, domestic dog. She had her hand resting just underneath her werewolf husband's jaw, occasionally running her fingers through his fur.

"Does your father still go out during full moons?"

Viola turned her attention to Djura and nodded. "We have quite a few young hunters that take nothing into consideration except elimination." She sighed, mulling over the Doll's words. "They crave chaos."

Djura snickered and shrugged. "That they do, Vivi." He shook his head, taking his attention away from the door momentarily. "You will always have Old Yharnam as a refuge if what this dream doll tells you is the truth." He adjusted his cap and chuckled. "For all our sakes, I hope to have no reason to return to the hunt - especially the hunts of the past."

Viola smiled softly. "You and I both, old friend." She turned her green eyes to her still sleeping husband, chuckling quietly to herself as Djura returned to his watch duty. It had been Gascoigne's idea to seek Old Yharnam out for the full moon night each month; he didn't want to take the chance of breaking the basement with Madeline at home. Though she knew her father was a werewolf, Gascoigne didn't want to frighten her away from him - despite everyone's insistence that it wouldn't happen.

The three spent the night on the roof, Viola and Djura occasionally making jokes at each other, having missed the time that Viola had lived in Old Yharnam with him.

When the sun rose, Viola could feel something about to happen. Something wasn't right, and she felt as if she were being split in two. There was a burning sensation from underneath the bandages on her arm, followed by the immediate need to rip them off. The mark etched into her skin made her flinched, and she knew, deep down, that without a miracle she wouldn’t survive the birth of her child. She had seen the mark before, an ancient Caryll rune scribbled in the margins of her family's journals along with many others.

Oedon Writhe.


End file.
